


White Lightning

by ChristianHowe, helena_s_renn



Series: Eleven Strings – yksitoista kieltä [4]
Category: Def Leppard, Sonata Arctica
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 02:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12049203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristianHowe/pseuds/ChristianHowe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/helena_s_renn/pseuds/helena_s_renn
Summary: Jani needs a place to stay and Sav is struck by White Lightning.





	White Lightning

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not ours, not true; as far as the authors are aware, none of this ever happened.

* * *

Jani had released a deep breath when Rick had agreed to forget what had happened at the hospital. He made to follow the other man to the hotel, discovering that he was still a little unsteady on his feet, but he managed without too much stumbling. While they walked along endless hallways – the architect who'd designed this place must have been even more drugged than Jani had been... no, still was – he came to the conclusion that although the medication must have worn off to a degree, he was still surprisingly calm. Good. The whole situation was enough of a mess already and the last thing he needed was a full-blown panic attack.

Finally, Rick unlocked the door to his room. Or no, wait, it wasn't a room, it was a suite, just like he'd said earlier. Jani had thought he was kidding, but there obviously was a major difference between Sonata Arctica and Def Leppard when it came to accommodation. The door to the bedroom was open and when Jani saw the bed, his first thought was that all members of Sonata could probably fit into it – assuming that they were their usual drunken selves who didn't mind sleeping all over each other, of course. He'd still offer to take the couch, but he wasn't afraid of sharing this bed with Rick. First, however...

The place was not only large, it also smelled of room freshener. The scent made Jani aware of how badly he must reek. Not only hadn't there been a shower on the festival premises – and he'd sweated like a pig during their set – but the hot weather had made him sweat also through his off-stage clothes. And then, there'd been the puking...

"Do you think I could take a quick shower?" he asked and added dryly, "It'd be in your best interest, too."

* * *

"Yes, of course." If Jani hadn't asked, Sav would have offered. The weather here was torrid, and Jani had just been through re-setting his finger, which had made him sweat hot and cold. Feeling rather crusty himself, Sav eyed Jani speculatively and asked, "Do you need to borrow some clothes? We're near the same size, I ought to have something."

So now he was offering his clothing to a near-stranger. Not that it mattered, he had so many and could always buy more. Up and coming designers had practically thrown him their couture several times. If nothing else, Jani could sell it online for a profit, not that he seemed the type. Sav decided then and there, he was all in as far as making Jani's life a little easier for the limited time he had left. From his ramblings, the guitarist had a lot of problems, not just a broken pinkie or even band infighting. Everyone deserved a break once in a while. No one in Sav's sphere would think anything of it. Under the trappings of fame, they were, for the most part, down to earth and reasonable blokes.

Jani was silent so long, Sav took matters into his own hands, crossing into his bedroom and rummaging in the luggage open on the dresser. Jani seemed to favour t-shirts and jeans, although denim wasn't comfortable to sleep in and Sav at least needed to crash soon or pay the price. Did he even own any t-shirts without the sleeves cut off? When he looked up, Jani was standing in the doorway, shifting on his feet. "Hey. What do you like to sleep in?"

* * *

This time Jani was sure he was blushing. "I, um, usually I don't sleep in clothes," he said, "but if I could borrow a shirt and underpants I'd say we'd both be more at ease." His own clothes, both the set he was wearing as well as the stage clothes in his backpack, were so ripe they probably counted as biohazard.

He peered into the bathroom and saw to his relief that the hotel provided courtesy toothbrushes and one-way razors – it wouldn't matter in the grand scheme of things but Jani didn't like to wear stubble. There was only one more thing: although it wouldn't make his hand any worse, he didn't want to get the dressing wet.

"Is it okay if I take the trashcan liner for my hand when I shower?"

* * *

"Yes, I should have thoughta that," Sav replied in reference to the bin liner. They had Jani's hand splinted, not in a traditional plaster cast, but he was still not supposed to get it wet. While he'd been gone – since morning – the room had been cleaned. He'd taken inventory while going through his clothes and could tell nothing was missing. There were also fresh linens, glassware, and he assumed toiletries. That included new liners in the bins. "Help yourself," he pointed to one between the bed and the nightstand.

"Sleep in the buff, huh?" he chuckled. "Doesn't that get cold? Northern Finland in winter?" It wasn't winter now, but that far north, the season was half the year for all he knew. Although, with two girlfriends, Jani had his own personal bed-warmers... Had. Past tense, apparently. But Sav wouldn't bring that up, it was part of that which he'd said he'd forget.

There, a t-shirt that he hadn't attacked with scissors. Sav tossed the faded black Bowie Starman shirt to the edge of the bed, then he hesitated again. The idea of Jani wearing his – Sav's – pants was doing weird things to his insides. "Er, boxers of briefs?" Were younger men more particular about that? He thought it was a fair question. And he had both sorts.

* * *

OK, admitting his preferred sleeping habit had been a mistake, but Jani wasn't going to elaborate. He picked up the shirt Rick threw him, then considered the next question. "Er, I'll be happy with whatever you can spare." Maybe he should have gone with sleeping naked after all. He wasn't sure whether this conversation counted as more awkward or ridiculous. Whichever it was, though, he had a legitimate reason to excuse himself. "Um, I'll head for the shower if that's okay with you." He didn't get a negative response from Rick, so he entered the bathroom.

Once he was alone, Jani managed to pull his shirt over his head but he soon discovered that his jeans were going to be a problem: not only were they skin-tight – just as he liked them – but they were of the button-fly type and after unsuccessfully trying to unbutton them he realised that there was no way he was going to get out of them with only one hand.

If he'd thought the events they'd agreed to forget had been awkward, what Jani had to do now was going to lead to yet another dimension of awkwardness, and this time he didn't even have the excuse of being drugged – okay, he still was drugged, otherwise he wouldn't be so calm about any of this, but it was a different kind of drugged, no longer the, how had Rick put it, doped-to-the-gills kind.

He opened the bathroom door but decided to stay where he was and call out instead, lest he catch Rick naked – the bassist must surely want to get out of his leather pants.

"Um, Rick... Do you think you could give me a hand in here..." Jani interrupted himself. Now, what he'd just said could very well be misunderstood! "I might need some help with my clothes."

* * *

_Rick?_ Why would Jani be calling for Def Leppard's drummer? As far as Sav knew – although anything was possible, the festival was huge and he'd been separated from his band for hours – they'd never met.

Then he remembered, or rather he'd forgot: to correct Jani earlier or raise the topic at all tonight as to his moniker. It just hadn't been that important, or even at issue.

What Jani was asking for though, that might be an unanticipated problem. What Sav heard first, "give me a hand," had his blood up immediately. He had tried so hard not to want the little guitarist – who wasn't little at all – and what he got sounded like a straight-up proposition.

Then Jani corrected his wording and Sav didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. What he did need, help getting out of his clothes, was almost as troublesome. At least Sav had some practical experience: he and his bandmates had all helped each other from time to time in the past, as in, dumping their drunken cohorts into bed and getting their outer layer of clothes off. When they were young, it was all just part of the fun. It could get embarrassing sometimes when the other party had gone commando; Sav rather hoped that Jani had worn underpants.

It was obvious from the way that Jani wouldn't look at him that he was just as conflicted, if for slightly different reasons. He'd got his shirt off on his own, so it was going to be straight to business. But first things first. "Call me Sav. That's what I go by, since there's another Rick. He's Rick Allen and I'm Rick Savage so I'm called Sav. Less confusing." Seeing the expression cross Jani's face that meant he was about to apologise, Sav smiled and waved it away. "It's my fault. Should've have said something before."

He was talking too much. "So then..." Sav glanced down quickly, then away. Fucking hell, those black jeans weren't just skin-tight, they were button fly. Yeah, Jani wasn't going to get those off by himself. Now who was having euphemism problems? "Er, alright." There was just no way to do this without looking. Not only did Sav not favour button flies but he would also be doing whatever unfastening backwards. He tried not to make a big deal out of it, stepped closer, and reached for the top button.

Jesus god, he was having an out of body experience. Sav watched his own hands work the silver button through the denim, then the next and the next. Neither of them seemed to be breathing. So far he hadn't encountered any... junk, that's what the kids were saying these days. Like most men, Jani would tuck it to one side or the other. By now, the fly was gaping enough that he could see his worries about 'commando' were unfounded. One more button to go. This time there was something bulkier than cloth under there. Sav nearly yanked his hand back, stopped himself long enough to finish undoing the damned button, and pulled away. His face was burning. What the hell was the matter with him?

He couldn't leave yet, though. Pulling the sausage casings known as jeans down Jani's legs and off without him falling on his face might be even more of a challenge. The only way it would work if Jani was standing was for Sav to kneel down. So, he knelt. "Hold onto my shoulder for balance," he choked out and peeled Jani's jeans down all the way to his ankles, only to find he still had shoes on. If they'd been boots, they'd have been dead. Untying Jani's shoes, he looked up, and quickly away. "Gonna need to lift your feet, and I'll try to pull the shoe and jeans leg on each side off all at once. Like I said, hold on."

The first side, Jani's left, was only managed after some fumbling and two false starts. Then another to pull his sock off, where Sav had to mind himself not to accidentally yank any of Jani's leg hairs. "OK, now the other." Then it was done. Jani stood there in nothing but black briefs and Sav left. He needed to simmer down.

* * *

Jani was spared the utter embarrassment of them following his request for another minute when Rick explained that and why he went by 'Sav'. It made sense. It was the same reason why Jani Hurula had been renamed Hurtsi last year in Kemi when they'd played that improvised gig – Jani, Jani, Janne, and Joni; they'd laughed their arses off over it.

Then Rick – Sav – cleared his throat and the grace period was over. It shouldn't be a big deal. Drunk Jani had been put to bed by his bandmates too many times to count, and he'd rendered the same service to all of them too, even Tommy, who usually drank less because as the drummer he had a more physically demanding job than the rest of them. Sav, however, was a stranger, regardless of how close they'd been pushed together tonight by the circumstances.

Taking a deep breath, Jani focused on his breathing and tried to think of the most unerotic things he could imagine. He wasn't horny or anything, but having someone, anyone, touch his crotch could provoke a reaction he really didn't need, and neither did Sav.

To his utmost relief, his dick behaved and Sav began to push Jani's jeans down. Good thing, too, that, thanks to the heat, he'd taken off his boots after the gig in favour of trainers. Neither man said a word while Sav continued undressing him. Finally, when Jani was down to his black briefs, Sav left. Jani could feel that the other man's relief matched his own. Here was another incidence that he was determined to file under 'can we forget that this ever happened.' Not that he'd ever bring it up again with Sav, the less said the better.

Right, time to clean up. Brushing his teeth and particularly shaving with one hand proved to be a bit of a challenge, but he mastered it alright. Then he wrapped the trashliner around his splinted hand and showered. The hot water felt fantastic and he was tempted to stay under the spray a little longer but decided against it. Already, he was incredibly tired and the warmth seemed to enhance his exhaustion. Jani towelled his hair as well as he could – he'd look terrible come morning but as much as he was usually concerned about his hair, he couldn't be bothered to take care of it properly.

When he slipped into the shirt and slung a towel around his hips, Jani noticed that the tips of his fingers were tingling. It meant that the anaesthesia was wearing off. Part of him welcomed it as he found not being able to feel his hand disconcerting. On the other hand – bad pun – he wasn't keen on having the pain return. He'd been too out of it at the hospital to ask the doctor about medication, but amid all the embarrassing things he'd said Jani also remembered that the doctor had given Sav instructions for him. He hoped that it wasn't merely instructions but also something for pain; he wouldn't be able to sleep otherwise.

Aware that he was going to crash soon, Jani left the bathroom. Sav raised his eyebrows – one eyebrow – but didn't say anything. He looked as tired as Jani felt, though, so Jani wouldn't keep either of them from sleep any longer than necessary. "Thanks again, man," he said. "I'm feeling much better already." He smiled. "There's only one thing more. Did that doctor provide something for pain relief? I'm beginning to feel my hand again and I'm afraid I'm not going to like that very much."

The latter was probably a major understatement, but whatever drugs he'd been given so far had done their magic and kept him calm. Jani hoped that there were painkillers that were as efficient as this tranquiliser.

* * *

Okay, he really had gone too far; Jani walked off without answering his ridiculous question, for which Sav couldn't blame him. To that end, he left out a clean pair of each type of pants on the end of the bed. Both were near new, brand name. He tried to put it from his mind, and found something for himself to wear for sleeping. Just the anticipation of that brought on a jaw-cracking yawn. They'd be leaving sometime mid-morning; Sav organised his clothes, accessories, computer gear, all the effluvia of travelling as much as he could without actually zipping everything closed.

He sat down on the bed to wait, yawning again. Within two minutes he'd slid down into a full-on slump. His eyelid twitched and then didn't want to blink along with the other side; he couldn't wait to get his contact lenses out. A little while later, Jani reappeared in a towel and his borrowed shirt, hair wet and flowing darker than before from the water. Black flame, Sav would have said. If he hadn't decided on his own lighter blond shade a few years ago now, he might have considered it. For sure, he could appreciate its aesthetic value.

Sav was forced to focus, because now he was actually needed for something: the local anaesthesia was wearing off and Jani had some feeling in his hand again, in other words, a hell of a lot of what medical professionals liked to call discomfort. If not yet, then soon. "They did. There's some pills, which I stuck along with their instructions in your backpack. Outside pocket. I really need to shower – seems to have done you some good. If you can wait a few minutes, I can help with the medications if you need it and for sure, get you some ice. "

Jani didn't seem like he was going to freak out about being left to his own devices for a bit. Sav noted that he'd actually smiled, probably for the first time all night, as he headed to the bathroom, makeshift pyjamas in hand. Surely Jani would like a few minutes of privacy to get his, er, clothing situation sorted and maybe just reflect. He wouldn't do it tonight, but Sav usually spent some time reading or practicing before turning in. Then again, he wasn't 25 anymore. Jani probably partied till he puked, got laid and got up to all sorts of mayhem on the average night, especially while on tour. Then again, there wasn't going to be much of a tour for him, was there? Poor bugger.

In the bathroom, steam still hung in the air. The middle part over the mirror over the sink had been wiped off. Just the heat and humidity of the room invoked an impulse to get naked, and get clean. He was positively swampy under the leather – just getting his sweat-drenched skin into open air was pure relief. Sav could understand why Jani took his time in there, once he stripped off and got under the hot water. This place had an excellent set-up with showerheads blasting from three sides. Bracing his hands on the shower door opposite, he let it rain over him. Every tense muscle in his body slowly relaxed. As if on cue, Sav let out a long, low groan, the drumming pressure of the streams of water against his lower back almost better than sex. Better than, or similar to: pleasure was pleasure. He stopped before it got to the point of reaching down to take himself in hand; he'd already decided not to stay too long.

After a quick wash, first his hair with his own shampoo and then the rest with whatever shower gel the hotel provided, he slicked his hair back and got out, reaching for one of the fluffy white towels on the rack. As soon as he was dry enough, Sav peeled the contacts off the surfaces of his overtired eyes and slid on his glasses. No one saw him in glasses these days, not since he'd been able to get rid of that ugly Harry Potter-looking pair following the onset of Bell's. He could see how half of his mouth didn't smile quite as much, at the thought of his old frames, and knew he needed to get to bed – now.

First, though, he cleaned his teeth, threw on the tee and stepped into black cotton boxers. Jani wasn't the only one who usually slept naked, though Sav had made it sound otherwise. Padding back to the bedroom, he mulled over what stupid thing he might say next that would finally make that hapless young bloke run away screaming.

* * *

Sav pointed him to the painkillers the doctor had provided. However, the instructions they came with were in Italian, which Jani didn't understand, and he'd also need some water, meaning he'd have to wait until Sav finished his shower. Considering how tired the other man looked, Jani didn't think he'd have to wait for long.

Between the black briefs and black boxers – both new as he registered with a little relief – laid out on the bed for him, Jani picked the boxers. Given that he preferred his jeans tight, he usually wore briefs, but boxers provided more, well, freedom, and he thought they'd be more comfortable for sleeping. Also, they weren't as revealing as briefs, although the fact that Jani wasn't exactly hung was probably no longer a secret after the embarrassment of having to ask Sav to unbutton his fly earlier.

Once he'd slipped into them, Jani towelled his hair again, then made to comb out the worst tangles with his fingers. The hotel had provided complimentary conditioner and he felt a little better with his hair smoothed out. He was tempted to lie down already but wasn't sure if Sav had a favourite side of the bed. Also, the tingling in his hand increased and he knew he needed these painkillers or there wouldn't be any sleep for him tonight.

It reminded him that Sav had mentioned ice. That was something Jani could take care of while waiting. He'd have to step into his jeans again but if he wore his – Sav's – shirt over them he wouldn't have to button the fly. Besides, at this time of night it was unlikely he'd run into someone on his way to the ice dispenser. However, when he looked around for the keycard to the room he couldn't find it, so he was once more at Sav's mercy.

Not much later, Sav came out of the bathroom. If he'd looked tired when he'd gone in, he looked as if he was going to crash any second now. He was wearing glasses now but they couldn't hide the drooping eyelids. Jani cringed. Yes, he appreciated Sav helping him, but it was clear that the other man had reached his limit, too.

"If you could just tell me how many of these pills I'm supposed to take and point me to the room key, I can take care of myself now," Jani offered.

* * *

"Huh, I thought there were directions for those, too. Maybe they fell out. I... I'm not sure. Let me see it." Sav held out his hand for the packet. When Jani handed it over, he checked the back. Italian, of course, in tiny letters. Dosage ought to be similar in any language, though. Or not. He finally resorted to his pocket translator. "Alright. One or two of these every four hours. It says with food or milk. There's a few snacks by the minibar, or order room service if you like."

He tried not to, but Sav yawned again. "So, if you really feel like you can handle the ice and what-not from here, I need to crash. Sorry for being an old man," he quipped. "Since you mentioned it, I suppose we can both sleep in this monster." He pointed at the bed. Having slept in it alone the night before, Sav could attest for its vastness. Really, it screamed "orgy" to him. It was kind of obscene.

"Spare keycard..." He dug it out of the top drawer of the bedside table. "There's a little latch on the door – flip it forward to keep it from locking you out, just in case. Turn off the lights when you've finished." He tossed both the card and the pills across the bed so they'd land near Jani and turned down the covers on 'his' side of the bed. Once Sav was down for the count, he wasn't so sure he'd hear anything short of a bullhorn next to his head. He slid under the sheet, immediately oblivious, sinking into pillow-soft blackness.

* * *

"Thanks, a snack will do." Jani didn't think he could stay awake long enough for room service to deliver some food. Watching Sav lie down, he picked up the room key and wondered again if he should put his pants back on or if he could risk venturing out for ice in his, or rather Sav's, underwear. He didn't really want to even touch his sweaty clothes from earlier, but he found that there was a much easier solution in the bathroom in the form of a thick bathrobe. Once he'd figured that out, he snatched the ice bucket and filled it.

His brain wasn't yet fully restored, Jani thought when he returned to the room, or he'd have taken the pills first. When he helped himself to a chocolate bar from the tiny fridge, he looked longingly at the beer but decided that drinking alcohol wasn't a good idea. Although he hadn't eaten all day he wasn't really hungry but Sav had said that the medication needed to be taken with food, and the pain was increasing, so he finished the chocolate bar, gulped down two of the pills with some water, and then laid down with his sore hand stuffed in the ice bucket.

If he'd thought he wouldn't be able to fall asleep with his hurting finger and the discomfort of the cold, Jani was wrong: It didn't take long before his thoughts became more and more disjointed. He jerked awake a couple of times, but eventually, his exhaustion won.

* * *

_His strings were razor wire. They shredded his fingers and with their own mind, tried to wrap around his arm. Sav dropped his bass, the Hamer four-string, in horror of his blood streaking the pearl white. When he looked up, no one looked back. Not from the places of his brothers on stage, not from the echoing arena. Somewhere, a baby wailed, the pistol shot at the beginning of his race._

_It was night, and the air was full of murder. The moon hung full and yellow like the harvest, but baleful, a fat tyrant who marked his time and progress that Sav already knew he'd never beat. Never once had. Running, running, running as fast as he could and more, as fast as a car speeding unchecked down a country lane but he could never outrun the black, clawed shadow that always sped both behind and ahead of him. Sav's wings unfolded from his back as he reached the edge of a cliff and jumped, rising on air currents and circling, searching. He skimmed as fast as a jet over deserts, fields, mountains belching smoke and ash. The elation of the power of flight had him desperately hard, no outlet in sight. Whatever, whoever he was looking for, Sav found nothing. The world was empty. Panic tightened in him like sour fruit, like something rotting at the side of the road._

_He came to a house, just a hovel at the edge of a moor. The door opened. Yellow-orange light pierced the night sky. An old man stepped out, jabbed a finger up at Sav where he circled far above and cursed him... them. "Ye be goin' to hell! Idolatrous, revelrous, fornicating bastards, all-a yeh!" As if the man were god, lightning struck Sav and fried his wings. He fell spiralling to earth, would have exploded from the inside out in a slosh of pulverised guts if he'd been a real boy. He landed hard but shook himself and hauled himself to his feet dragging broken, charred wings behind him up the aisle of the church he'd been taken to as a child for communion and confirmation, only it too was in ruins, peeled paint and shattered windows. At the front, upon the floor of the dais..._

_An insidious laugh shook the place. Pure evil. "You've returned. But too late as ever."_

_"Nooooo!" Sav screamed, running up the aisle. He already knew what he'd find. Steve, dressed in white, pale in death in a puddle of blood but somehow clean upon the crimson spread, only the ends of his golden, candy-floss hair dragging in the thick syrup of lost life. There wasn't a mark on him, the stress that aged his face and deadened his eyes, which were wide open and fixed on the ceiling, gone. Sav made a mess of it, he always did, trying to perform CPR he'd been too lazy to learn on flesh still warm, to no avail. His red handprints marked the snowy vest, streaks and droplets spattered everywhere by his ruined wings churning in anguish. At the end, he was doing nothing but hitting Steve's thin chest, bashing his helpless rage onto the fine bones._

_"Nooo-ooooh!" This scream was Joe's first at the end of Too Late. Sav fell forward into the puddle, so much now it was running down the steps up to the altar, while thunder rumbled and the walls shook. He drowned in it, in the iron-salt of it. It tasted like Steve, his life, his seed. Choking, Sav threw himself on the body of his friend, lover, co-creator and didn't even fight his end. Not this time. He counted his decreasing heartbeats, writhing in a slow horizontal screw one last time, no friction only blood..._

Sav jumped awake in the darkness, disoriented and beyond disturbed. "Who's there?" he rasped. He could feel a presence, but unlike those in the dream, it was alive, and it wasn't malicious. "Steve?"

No, he knew immediately, and felt ashamed for being so damned needy, so disgusting, so weak. His eyes had teared in his sleep, the saltwater dripping as he sat up. When he put his hands up to his face to wipe it away, he could feel – or couldn't feel – slackness on one side. Sighing, Sav leaned forward and buried his face in his hands.

* * *

When the groans began to seep into Jani's consciousness his first reaction was to pull his pillow over his head: he was on the tour bus, as evidenced by the swaying of his bunk, and someone was getting laid. Counting the seconds until Tony would throw a predictable hissy fit at anyone not being quiet in the sleeping compartment, he was surprised when nothing happened. Surely, it couldn't be Tony getting laid, could it? He fumbled for the light switch and noticed something weird about his left hand...

Memory crashed down on him like a collapsing brick wall. He wasn't on a tour bus and it wasn't the bed that was swaying but it must be a side-effect from the painkillers he'd taken for his broken pinkie. And nobody was getting laid either. Although the groans were real, they weren't borne from pleasure, no, someone – Rick – no wait, Sav – was either in a lot of pain or suffering through one hell of a nightmare.

Jani had heard of the theory that dreams were necessary to psychologically process events and that a dreaming person shouldn't be woken up, but it took him less than a second to decide that whatever was happening in Sav's dream was something that needed to be stopped, right now. His eyes were adjusting to the near-darkness of the room and he reached out for Sav's shoulder with his good hand to try and calm him down – or shake him awake, either way would work.

The moment Jani's hand touched Sav, the other man seemed to wake up as he asked who was there. Or did he, wake up? Sav called out for a Steve before Jani could answer. Jani wasn't sure if Sav had even registered his presence as he sat up and hid his face in his hands. And was he... crying? Was he still asleep, then? Or... the thought hadn't occurred to him earlier, was Sav doing drugs?

Whatever was going on, he had to do something. Sav had taken care of him earlier, and at the very least Jani would offer his help. If it wasn't accepted, then so be it, but there was no way Jani would repay Sav's kindness by letting him suffer. His problem was that he had no clue as to how he could help.

"Sav," he said softly, "it's Jani. I, um, think you had a bad dream. If there's anything I can do for you, get you some water, give you a hug... leave the room if you'd rather be on your own... please tell me..."

* * *

"Jani." He remembered. Jani from the festival, and the broken finger... who couldn't get ahold of his band and was here now because Sav couldn't draw a line between this young bloke and his past with the worst possible manifestation barely fading from his mind's eye.

Sav cleared his suddenly dry throat. He didn't want to ask for anything, used to handling this on his own – both the dream fall-out and his fucking facial paralysis. Earlier, Jani had been very hesitant to accept Sav's help, and here he was on the other side of the fence. There were offers of water, a hug (what the fuck?) or to get out of his space. He should offer some explanation, so that Jani didn't think he was tripping or just a total freak. Which, who knew? Sav could play up "class" like any Brit, but he was still working class underneath, would've ended up a factory worker or a rent boy without beating tremendous odds. The discrepancy sometimes threw him – he felt fake. Plastic. And with that, freakish. "Sorry to wake you. Bad dream."

He kept his head down, aware of Jani's close scrutiny. "Let's just go back to sleep. I-I don't think there'll be another dream. That's a recurring one, maybe once, twice a year. It's been more like two since the last. Shouldn't happen again..."

* * *

Unsure what to do, Jani hesitated. Sav had ignored it earlier when Jani didn't want his help, but that had been a different situation. A broken finger needed attention, but if Sav had these dreams before, he'd know what was best for him.

"'kay," he said and made to lie down again. That was when he felt something cold against his injured hand and he remembered that he'd stuck it into the ice bucket before he'd fallen asleep. Lucky for him, he must have removed the hand from it because the by now molten ice would have soaked his dressing. However, he'd better get rid of the bucket – or fill it with ice again – unless he wanted to end up sleeping in a puddle.

"D'you mind if I switch the light on for a sec? I need more ice for my hand and I'm not sure if I can find my way in the dark. I'd better not fall and break more fingers," Jani added wryly.

* * *

"Whatever you need... please do." Light would reveal what was going on with – one side of – Sav's face if Jani were to take more than a casual glance. He could hope that getting more ice or whatever Jani needed to do would keep him occupied. It would be just as simple to lie back down with his back to Jani, but that seemed rude.

Sav decided that to hell with it. If Jani saw, he saw. It wouldn't let up till he got more rest. "If there's anything I can do for you, just ask," he said nonetheless. He was awake now, for the moment. Under the covers, he folded his legs to sit cross-legged, wrapping his arms around his knees.

* * *

Jani frowned at the slur he detected in Sav's voice. Could it be narcotics after all? But Sav hadn't appeared to be intoxicated at any time unless he'd taken something when one of them had been in the bathroom. However, doing drugs just before going to bed didn't make much sense. No, he concluded, Sav was merely incredibly tired and the nightmare hadn't helped.

"Sorry for the light," Jani said as he switched it on – and was immediately rendered blind. Blinking, he waited a few seconds before picking up the ice bucket. If his original intention had been to fetch fresh ice, he now changed his mind: He was going to fall asleep again and then either the dressing or the bed, or both, would be soaked in water once the ice melted.

He emptied the bucket in the sink and returned to the bedroom. When his eyes fell on Sav's face, he did a double-take. He'd already noticed a slight asymmetry in the bassist's face earlier, but he hadn't thought much of it; nobody's face displayed a perfect symmetry at a closer look. What he saw now, however, was an entirely different image. It was as if one side of Sav's face had gone completely slack with his mouth hanging and the eye didn't look quite right either.

The combination with the slurred speech set alarm bells off in Jani's head. During their last US tour he'd been so bored that he'd read whatever he could find on the 'Net that appeared to be even marginally interesting. Okay, most of those times he'd been too drunk to actually understand what he was reading, but there was this acronym that got stuck in his memory. What was it... SAFT, as in the German word for juice? No, wait, FAST. Face, Arms, Speech, Time.The first three indicated that if something was weird with any of them or all three together, it could indicate a stroke, in which case T, time, was of the essence. Sav's face and speech were definitely off. As for the rest...

"Sav," Jani began, "could you do me a favour? I know this is going to sound weird, but could you hold out your arms for me?"

* * *

The lamp clicked on, and Jani got up and moved about the suite, emptied the melted ice water into the bathroom sink, coming back to the bedroom for some unknown reason, maybe the spare keycard.

Sav felt eyes on him again, and could have predicted what came next: the startled blink, the frown, the hazy expression of Jani fact-checking his brain against what he was seeing, and then a concerned request he hold out his arms. Sav almost laughed but instead, rather than protest, he simply did it: raised both arms straight out at shoulder level and held them there till he was sure that Jani had processed that, other than his face, there was no muscle weakness on his right side. "I'm not having a stroke, if that's what you're wondering. It's called Bell's palsy, I've had it 12 years and it's under control, mostly. It's just acting up due to fatigue. Okay?" Sav could hear how some of his words were sliding together, garbled, and resolved to try harder if he spoke again.

Though he didn't have an outburst about it being so horrible or launch into an immediate barrage of questions like some people were prone to do, Jani seemed to be hovering on the edge of another apology. "I know it's... disconcerting. Imagine my reaction the first time I saw it in the mirror like that, and it was much worse then, like melting wax or something." He shook his head, hiding that half of his face behind his hair as best he could again. He'd gone to sleep with wet hair, it was likely a bloody rat's nest.

Jani was still standing there, probably not knowing what to say. "Go on lad, get your ice," Sav said as gently as he could. "Most likely I'll be fine in the morning."

* * *

Sav did as Jani had asked him to and Jani was relieved to see that he held both arms at the same level. Still, the face and the speech...

Then Sav explained to him what the cause was and Jani felt bad for not asking him about it outright. He shrunk back, cursing his awkwardness with people. Here he'd been thinking that he was finally getting over it, but no. Apparently, Sav's Bell's palsy – Jani vaguely remembered reading about this condition before – was aggravated by being tired. So he should just let the man sleep.

Jani managed a shaky smile. "I think I'll go without the ice. Once I fall asleep it'll only soak the bed, and I'm ready to drop, too." He climbed back into bed and switched the light off. "Sorry for keeping you awake. I'll try to not wake you again." He hesitated. "Good night and, get well."

* * *

Well, Jani would know better than anyone what level of pain he could handle. Sav could see his point about sodden bed sheets from melting ice, even if it probably wasn't the best for his fracture. Not having any working knowledge about whatever Jani had been prescribed, he could only hope there was an anti-inflammatory component to them. That was as far as he got before exhaustion took over again.

"G'night, mate," Sav returned when the light went out. Then as an afterthought, "Yeh shoul' be due for more-a those pillzzz in a couple-a hours." He unfolded his legs, slid down and turned on his side to bunch up the pillow under his head. A minute later, he turned onto the other side. Facing the centre of the bed now, he thought Jani wasn't sleeping, although the average person took 10-20 minutes to fall asleep, 90 to reach REM phase, he'd read somewhere. It was gonna take him three, two, one...

* * *


End file.
